


Make Yourself at Home

by avearia



Series: 21 KM Fills [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Anxiety, Can be read as either Gen or slight North/Pitch, Community: rotg_kink, M/M, kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 04:11:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18066347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avearia/pseuds/avearia
Summary: Pitch is a creature of the dark, and in the dark is the only place he truly feels safe. The Guardians, after making a truce with Pitch, have to deal with the fact that their new friend... lurks. A lot.Can be read as Gen or slight North/Pitch.





	Make Yourself at Home

**Author's Note:**

> Took me a while to figure out how I wanted to post this on AO3... Can I just say that AO3's ability to put things as part of a series is an invaluable tool? 
> 
> Anyway, I'm currently doing a self imposed challenge to fill 21 prompts on the Rise of the Guardians Kink Meme. I started this good while ago but haven't made much progress, and sadly the ROTG KM is a bit dead anymore. But I'd like to finish it regardless. Feel free to pop over to the KM if you're interested (18 plus, please), always interested in seeing more prompts there!
> 
> Come visit! : https://rotg-kink.dreamwidth.org/3036.html

**Make Yourself At Home**

He's lurking in the cupboards again.

North finds Pitch in the oddest places nowdays. Ever since The Truce, Pitch has been making an effort to be "more sociable"—though in North's opinion, the Boogieman's idea of "social" could use a little tweaking. Right now, all it means is that Pitch will drop by, usually unannounced, settle into the nearest closet/shadowy corner/vacant room/etc, pull out a good book, and wait for someone to notice.

Someone always notices. Eventually. The Discovery Of Pitch is usually heralded by the yelp of a Yeti, or the frantic jingle of an elf. Or, on rare occasions, by the flurry of Russian swearwords echoing down from North's office.

North has lost track of how often he's found Pitch in the nooks and crannies of the Pole. Nesting in the rafters; lounging in supply rooms, hiding under beds. Sometimes he'll be there for hours before making himself known, such as the time when North sneezed in his study and something in the air vents said "bless you."

It's routine, now. He sighs and accepts it.

Scaring North, or North's Yetis and Elves, doesn't seem to be Pitch's main objective but rather, in the Nightmare King's own words, "A delightful side-effect." Instead, North eventually comes to realize, Pitch's routine is simply that: a routine. A habit. A way of making himself comfortable in a place where a shadow shouldn't rightfully belong.

The North Pole is bright. Brilliant. _Loud_. …a bit overwhelming, admittedly, especially for spirits who spent centuries alone. Hence why Jack's visits tend to be short and sporadic, and why Pitch relegates himself to the shadows. It's the only place Pitch ever seems to really feel safe.

That's why North doesn't shout when he waltzes into his private kitchen to find Pitch hiding there. Yes, it's unsettling, to be sure—to kneel and reach for the kettle only to find the boogieman sitting there, nestled between the frying pans and the stockpots, yellow eyes staring back. But it's better than before, when Pitch tried to act _normal,_ sitting exposed in the light—when his visits were tense and short and left him wound tighter than a spring. And it's better than the start, when Pitch simply didn't visit at all.

Pitch is, in many ways, an embodiment of darkness, and it is only in the darkness where he feels comfortable.

And Pitch certainly looks comfortable in the cupboards—despite being cramped by cookware. So North hesitates, lifts the pot, and offers, simply, "Tea?"

Pitch tilts his head, a finger held between the pages of _The Call of Cthulu_ as a temporary bookmark, and gives the faintest of smiles.

"…Please."

North makes two cups then, treating them both to black tea; Pitch's with two sugars, North's with lemon and vodka. He sets his guest's saucer on the floor, and after he straightens to tend to his own drink, he hears from below: a _clink,_ a sip, and a contented sigh.

With a quiet grin, North sips his own drink, and tries his best not to laugh.

 _I can get used to shadows in cupboards,_ he thinks. _I am glad Pitch feels at home._


End file.
